My knuckles tore at the canvas of the airplane’s seat’s arms as my son watched a documentary on great white sharks. His eyes glowed with joy at surfboards with horror-movie bloodstains, defenseless tuna, and seals bitten in half by these beautiful monsters.
As we landed in Boston, my hands relaxed. He turned his TV off. I asked, “What did you think?” (meaning the 7 days in Florida). He said, “I like the one that flies” (meaning the South African great white shark who kills as it soars through the air, like a plane in a windless cloud).